


Memory's Misgivings

by cccshutdown



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Amnesia, Longarm has a bad time: the fic the movie, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overall panic and distress, Sleeper Agent Longarm AU, Whoops this wasnt supposed to be more than 1 chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-01 17:03:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10194524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cccshutdown/pseuds/cccshutdown
Summary: Longarm suffered from amnesia ever since a terrible medical incident back at Autobot boot camp, and he never truly was able to remember everything. Either way, he continued to strive to be an Autobot; and eventually rising becoming the head of intelligence and even achieveing the ranking of Prime. Everything seemed to be going well for him.That is, until he woke from recharge inside a body that did not belong to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never actually posted any fanfics ever but I liked this so I might as well? I might add on to this in the future, but knowing me I probably won't. Anyways I really like the Sleeper Agent Longarm AU.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this hot mess I cobbled together in like 5ish hours.

Longarm was terrified- no, even that was an understatement. He had no real idea as to what just happened, but he was shaking, petrified, unable to understand a single thing about himself. He felt and looked nothing like himself in the first place - His limbs were far too long and scrawny, he was far too tall, he had weird antlers that stuck up too high, and there were strange, awful and cruel-looking claws instead of his digits. He felt as if he was torn from his body and shoved into another, and he couldn’t understand why this happened - what was going on?!

He didn’t even know what happened to him. He woke from recharge in this quarters, tried to stand up, and was greeted with a body that didn’t belong to him. He stumbled nervously in a gangly mess, trying to stand up straight only to be greeted with pain when his antlers bumped and scraped painfully against the ceiling of the room. Every time he reached out for something, he felt incredibly off balance, and every single movement he made, as miniscule as it may be, felt unnatural and uneven.

He took a few steps, trying to balance himself on the wall, hunched over in a strange manner. His mind couldn’t understand this new form at all. Longarm shakily and slowly made his way to his personal washracks, almost tripping a few times as he tried to walk with his strange and spindly legs. His claws raked against the wall as he dragged himself forwards, leaving visible scratches in them as he tried desperately to reach the doorway. His confusion and fear was soon replaced with denial.

This all had to be a dream, right? Or maybe he was hallucinating? Can… Can hallucinations even feel this real? He couldn’t tell if this was fiction or reality, and internally, he wondered if he really wanted to know the answer.

Longarm eventually managed to get to the door, but fumbled with his claws for quite some time trying to open it, his servo trembling due to his overwhelming fear and panic. It took significantly longer than it should’ve to actually get inside, but he finally managed to. He immediately turned and went straight for the mirror. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to see what happened to him.

The face that stared back made his plating crawl with absolute horror.

It was… All too simple. A face with no discernable features other than a single, red optic, staring right back at Longarm with a frightened look. That alone was enough to make the poor Autobot shriek with fear. Longarm stumbled backwards a few steps, but tripped on himself and fell right to the floor. He panicked and whined desperately, scrambling towards the wall and trying to get away from the awful figure in the mirror. He moved his servos up to clutch onto his legs and curl into himself, but cried even louder when he remembered the strange, alien claws he had in it’s stead. He grasped the ground nervously, soft whimpers and sobs escaping him as he tried to understand himself, understand what horrifying _thing_ he’d _become._

He didn’t know how long he sat there sobbing to himself miserably until he heard an all too familiar voice call his name.

Longarm vented quickly and fell entirely silent as he heard the door to his private quarters open and close. Footsteps echoed gently in the room, followed by a soft gasp. They must’ve seen some of the overthrown furniture and scrape marks. Oh no, please don’t open the door, please don’t-

_Click. Pssh._

And there, in the doorway, stood Blurr, staring at the curled up Longarm(?) with confusion and fear. Longarm wheezed and tried to stand straight, trying to force words to come out of his vocalizer. It only sounded like a garble of sounds, partially because of how terrified Longarm was and partially because when he actually stood up, his antlers, once again, banged against the ceiling. Blurr took a step back, and Longarm did too, his antlers pushing backwards.

Longarm managed to force a string of words from drawing from his vocalizer, quickly stammering, “I- No, Blurr- It's me! It's Longarm, I-I swear, I don't know what happened I'm so confused and scared please don't run away I d-don’t know what to do-”

He was quickly cut short by Blurr swiftly raising a servo, pointing accusingly at Longarm’s chest and growling, “You're not Longarm, you Decepticon! Quite frankly I find it amusing that you'd assume that I'm gullible enough to believe that you're really Longarm, but I am not, and I demand to know this instant what you did to him or you will face even more charges than trespassing and-”

“D-Decepticon?!” Longarm cut off Blurr’s tangent with that confused question, then quiet for a few seconds, letting the very thought sink in. He slowly looked over to the mirror, looking down to his chest, where his Autobot badge would be…

And lo and behold, there, mounted where the badge he worked so hard for was the cruel, violet badge of the Decepticons.

He screamed again, this time even louder than before, overcome with absolute terror that made Blurr jump and move backwards. Longarm stumbled away from the very mockery of what he once was, tripping on himself once again and falling to the ground. He whined loudly and scrambled against the wall away from the mirror, turning to Blurr with a pleading look, his vocalizer beginning to give out. “Y-You have to believe me Blurr, I don't know what's happening and I'm so scared,” he whined, covering his mostly featureless face with his servos and shaking rather violently.

Longarm expected Blurr to have already pulled the stasis cuffs on him and start dragging him away to be detained. The deafening silence that followed seemed to dig through his audials, and he heard Blurr approach. The response he got wasn't his servos being torn from his face and shoved into cuffs, but a soft reassuring touch. Longarm vented loudly, and Blurr simply stood there, his servo on his shoulder, trying to understand the situation as well.

The two were quiet for a little bit before Longarm spoke again, a little bit more stable and shaking significantly less, “I… I don’t know what to do… I can’t go to get checked out, I look nothing like how I used to… I-I’ll get detained and put on trial and I might… I might be called a Decepticon spy a-and…” His voice was low and quiet, shaking gently as he tried to say something to break the silence. “Y… You believe me, don’t you?” Longarm slowly raised his head, turning to look at Blurr with a shaken look. His single optic seemed dimmed, the pupil extremely tiny and forced into a barely noticeable slit, though unmoving and unblinking.

Blurr was dead silent before venting himself, lowering to the ground to kneel and wrapping Longarm in a tight hug, a sullen look on his face. 

“I do. I don't understand either, but I trust you and know you well and long enough that you really are very scared right now, and I truly believe you with all my spark, despite how incredibly farfetched and bizarre such a situation like this could come into play, and despite that multiple factors are pointing to a more reasonable situation, that is to say, and apologies if this frightens you further, that you are in fact a Decepticon spy, though my spark refuses such a claim through personal experience, as I believe, as fallacious as my beliefs may be, that you intended none of this and that something bizarre and curious did happen and-”

Longarm let him continue his rant already having tuned out to most of it as it began to spiral towards a strange direction and letting it fade into a comforting, familiar background noise. Longarm had already raised his gangly servos up to return the embrace, and although it felt awkward, it was heartfelt. Blurr stated whatever came to his mind sometimes in his tangents (and rather quickly too), though Longarm always was able to process his speeches with relative ease and filter out the ‘what my processors say’ to focus on the ‘what I truly mean’. The soft, gentle comfort that came washing from Blurr’s EM field certainly helped, too, as the frightened Prime simply tried to wrap his mind around what could've possibly happened.

“- But Longarm, my lovely Prime, my sweetspark, please know that things will be well and I will always be here for you, as your lover and as your friend, don't be afraid. I'm here.”

Longarm vented again, nuzzling the smaller mech lovingly. He felt strange doing this, as he was now significantly taller (more than usual, at the very least), though truly meant well. He soon was able to collect himself enough to try to stand and get a full idea of what he was exactly looking at. Blurr followed in suit, looking towards the fullbody mirror.

Longarm quietly stared at the hunched, foreign body he'd awoken in, thinking to himself all the while.

 _Same colors,_ he noted with interest. _And same chest and similar torsos. But this one is too and tall and slim. And… Not to mention the face,_ his thoughts continued, watching the awful thing standing in the mirror with ever-growing disgust. _Similar transformation seams, but slightly different to accommodate length. Strange kibble (..?) near the shoulders._

Blurr watched with interest as Longarm examined himself, digits running over his transformation lines and colors, though always seeming to return to the face with relative curiosity. Longarm would often raise their claws up to prod at the mostly featureless face. First he'd gently touch the rim of it before deciding to observe elsewhere, then return to it. Eventually he poked at the darkness under it, tilting his head ever so slightly so that the light in the washroom could potentially reveal some of the features underneath, only to be greeted with black metal. He prodded gently against the plating underneath, until eventually finding a small hole that could've potentially been his intake…

That is, if it would actually move. Longarm shifted uncomfortably, his hunched position starting to ache rather badly. He seemed a bit confused as to how he'd be able to drink properly, though soon found that his glossa had been replaced with.. Some…. Kind of bizarre looking proboscis? He flicked the little appendage out a few times, a bit like how a snake would it's tongue, before swiftly drawing it back in. Guess that's settled with.

As he prodded his strange new form, Longarm began to wonder if this was permanent, and what the slag even happened to him while he was resting. It… Certainly didn't look like anyone got into his room while he wasn't conscious. He really hoped this wasn't something that would stay with him.

Then his claws moved upwards, gently prodding his new antlers with curiosity. They still hurt a little bit from hitting them on the ceiling a few times and scraping them, but Longarm was interested in them and didn't pay much mind to the pain. He gave a soft “hm” sound, and he turned back to Blurr. “I… Can't go out like this,” he murmured, gesturing to the Decepticon emblem on his chest.

Blurr seemed to fall silent for a few moments before perking up. “Hm… Could you sit down again?” He hesitated for a bit, but obliged, adjusting himself as Blurr moved over and reached over to the emblem. He seemed to fiddle with it a bit, seeing if it was secure (which it was, very much so). He inspected it for some time before nodding, looking up to Shockwave with a bright grin. 

“I could most certainly take this off if you want, while in training I was taught how to remove our badges should we have to in some dire situation in which we could not under any circumstances be caught as an Autobot, though it might be a bit situational I think this should be just fine,” he nodded, starting to pry ever so slowly at the badge. “Though of course this will only be able to apply if your own badge was fastened in a similar manner and, if not, the only other way to remove it would be welding which would be highly unfortunate and also something I would not be able to do at least not without guidance from another and that at the moment I do not believe to be an option.”

“At the very least, for our badges, you cannot pry them off with a lot of force, you have to move it slowly and progressively to remove them and as tedious as it may be in an actual situation I suppose that it would suffice, in fact I don't really see the logic in not being able to pry it off swiftly but I suppose that it would simply be so it remains affixed-” And there went Blurr on another tangent. Longarm simply watched with interest as Blurr slowly began to apply gentle pressure on the sides of the badge, pushing upwards with constant pressure. Blurr seemed to be talking to alleviate his twitchiness, Longarm could see his limbs jerk every once in awhile and his optics flicker wildly around as he motioned his head while speaking. It was obvious that Longarm wasn't the only nervous one here, and he deeply hoped that it wasn't distrust that caused it.

He simply watched as Blurr spoke and worked slowly, gently trying to pull the badge off. It took a bit, but eventually Blurr nodded happily and started pulling a bit harder. “- Ah, yes, it's coming off without any problems, it's very good that the Decepticons had the same idea,” the speedster thought aloud, much to the discomfort of Longarm. It was an awful thought to think of this awful thing being mounted on his chest. Was he maybe being framed? Did some unholy medical procedure take place while he was offline? Questions burned into his spark, but he tried to stave off the questions that could not be answered by focusing in the moment and listening to Blurr.

“... Thank you very much, my dear, I can't thank you enough for understanding me,” praised Longarm, watching as the other managed to pull the awful emblem off him. Blurr smiled brightly, nuzzling into Longarm’s chest briefly before turning the badge over in his fidgety hands, looking at it with curiosity. He tilted his head and offered it to Longarm, which he fumbled with for a bit with his claws, but eventually managed to hold it properly. He looked at it with both curiosity and disgust, almost horrified that such a thing was put on his chest.

What he hadn't noticed until now was that the badge looked so… _Old._ The colors seemed faded and duller than it would if it were new, and a few scratches dug into the thin sheet of metal. He wasn't sure what to think of this. 

For now, he put the badge beside him and looked to Blurr, his antennae pushing back briskly. “I'm going to have to leave my room eventually. I have a job to do, and if I don't leave, suspicion will arise. And I also need to refuel among other things…” He sighed and put his face in one of his servos, the other pulling his love closer. “I don't know what to do. What do you think I should do?”

Blurr was quiet for a moment, twitching ever so slightly as he considered his options before settling on a simple reply, “... I don't know either. I wish I did but I don't and I hate it.”

Longarm sighed, lifting his servo from his face and gently cupping Blurr’s face. He hated his claws, they seemed sharp and menacing, and he could tell that Blurr’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the touch. “I understand. We'll think of something, my dear,” he murmured in a comforting manner, his other servo stroking down the speedster’s back.

So the two simply sat there comforting one another, uneasy, but together. And they would get through this together, Longarm was sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys asked for more and I guess I'll deliver?
> 
> This is gonna turn into an accidental longfic and then I'll die. Anyways! Enjoy, lemme know if you guys are still interested in more of Longarm's wild ride.

“So far I do not believe anyone has any suspicions, if you would like I could inform Cliffjumper that a personal emergency had occurred and you need some time to yourself, but that of course is entirely up to you,” Blurr quickly offered, currently assisting Longarm in the examination of his quarters in order to determine what had happened. Longarm had decided to keep this situation a secret until absolutely necessary, and chose to try figure out what exactly had occurred in the meantime.

“No, not yet. Perhaps in a bit,” Longarm responded, examining his berth. The wall had notable scratches that he did not remember inflicting, and when examining them, they seemed to match his own claw marks, as well as some scratches that resembled the marks his antlers made when they scraped against the ceiling. _Maybe I was thrashing around and I don’t remember it. Perhaps something really did happen here,_ he mused to himself.

Blurr seemed to be scanning the room, not quite able to focus on details. “There’s no visible scratches over here, and I don’t think anything is missing or misplaced otherwise, did you happen to have walked over here before or not?” Longarm perked up from the scene and tilted his head. “... No. I immediately went to my washracks when I became aware of what happened to me,” he explained, turning back to the berth. His optic’s pupil narrowed. “Come. I need a second opinion, my dear.”

Blurr swiftly moved over, and Longarm gestured towards the walls. “The only marks I’ve seen that prove to be of any note, at the very least, that I have not consciously inflicted, are here.” He moved forwards and adjusted his digits, aligning them perfectly with his claws. “I would suspect that this was my own, but… I don’t remember scratching this wall. And here,” He moved to gesture towards the antler scrapes on the other wall. “This too, I have no memory of scraping my newfound antlers against this. I… Do not understand why this happened.” He seemed troubled and narrowed his optic, gazing gently.

Blurr turned to Longarm, then back at the scratches, then back to Longarm. He seemed to think for a bit, contemplating the scene. Longarm found his servo unconsciously tracing his new figure, narrowing even further when he remembered the similar transformation seams.

Maybe…

Longarm took a few steps back, giving himself some space, before transforming. Same alt mode… In fact… It felt exactly the same. There was no physical change that he could discern. “Do I look any different?” Blurr shook his head, tilting his head. “There is no change from the last time I saw you transform, which is quite strange, I believe.”

He then transformed back, venting heavily and turning to squint at the berth with distrust. An absurd thought crossed his mind, but he immediately dismissed it. There was no real way of knowing.

Blurr quickly piped up, “Well, there appears to be no signs of any intruders. In fact, it seems that any and all marks were caused by you, likely in either a state of panic or while you were recharging, and we know for a fact that you did not fall into recharge in this state, but you awoke in it, so theories point to two primary theories: either this was self inflicted, somehow, or something else occurred in the night that you can’t remember, either way it would be extremely difficult to figure out what exactly occurred without any visual or audio evidence, and I don’t believe that your room is recording anything of any sort, so unfortunately, we cannot quite understand what’s going on.”

Longarm listened with intent and nodded, antlers pushing forwards a bit. “I’m afraid so. And I'm also afraid that I may never be able to discover what occurred, and I don't think I can actually leave this room like this, either.”

“On the contrary, actually, I don't see why suspicions would be raised from a strange bot with no faction symbol, none is certainly better than a Decepticon emblem, and besides, we could most certainly come up with some sort of excuse in order to get by, and if that weren't the case we could perhaps explain the situation and hope for the best, that seems like a viable option should we have to.”

Longarm have an irritated grunt. “I would much prefer not to drag others into this predicament. I could risk my very position.” He vented and sat on his berth, hunched forwards with a sullen look (as sullen as one could express with one optic). “I just.. Want this situation be be done and over with. And I want my body back.”

He jolted upright immediately after saying that, a strange feeling washing over him. He seemed confused at first, as did Blurr, but something instinctual roused in him, and it was one of the most bizarre and most _familiar_ things he's felt in quite some time.

He suddenly transformed, but oddly enough, not into a tank. His body itself changed, the metal shifting and melding into itself in an unusual and unnatural manner, which terrified both Longarm and Blurr. The feeling he had felt awkward, as if he hadn't done this in a very long time. It felt… Somewhat similar to him stretching his limbs outwards, but different, in the sense that he changed himself entirely rather than the length of something predetermined.

And suddenly, he was fine, as if the terrifying and mentally taxing situation that had occurred did not. The antlers were no longer there, he didn't have to hunch to prevent pain, he didn't stumble over himself, his claws were just digits.

Because Longarm, for some absurd and inexplicable reason, had transformed back into his original body.

Blurr was in shock, gazing with a look of confusion and uncertainty, while Longarm just shook where he stood, uncertain of what happened as well. He looked over his hands and body, both marvelled and afraid, questioning whether or not he was really awake again. He fell back onto the berth again, bearing a rather confused expression. He reached up and touched his face as well - no antlers, no single optic, no strange intake, and no lack of facial features. He looked to Blurr, who was just about as unsure of what happened as he did.

Blurr nervously moved forward, hopping on the berth alongside Longarm. He looked reluctant, but reached a servo over and held Longarm’s, like he was checking if it was really him and of he was real. Longarm couldn't help but smile a bit.

“I guess we figured it out, didn't we,” he hummed, taking Blurr’s servo in his own and squeezing lightly. “I'm not too sure what happened there, but I think we should keep this between us, yes?”

Blurr nodded. “Certainly, if that's what you insist upon doing I won't tell a soul.” He paused. “... You're likely late for work, don't you have to check in with Sentinel regarding those Autobots on the alien-inhabited planet, you probably should go do that for your sake considering how unruly and annoying he gets at times.”

Longarm groaned. Right, he actually had a job and responsibilities. He'd gotten too caught up in the predicament he was in moments ago. He really wasn't looking forward to talking to Sentinel today.

“If anyone asks where we were, Blurr… I don't know. Make something up - we were fragging or something.” To that, Blurr immediately made a strange expression. “I- Excuse me, what? No, that’s indecent and obscene and questionable and-”

“Indecent and obscene, yes, questionable, no. It’s an indecent and obscene excuse that will get people to stop asking.” Longarm smirked. Blurr gave an intent glare before venting, a slightly annoyed look on his face.

“If you _INSIST,_ Longarm,” He pouted, but it only seemed to make Longarm chuckle happily. “You’re too cute to be intimidating, my dear,” he hummed, leaning in to give Blurr a quick peck on his forehead. “In any case, I should get going soon, and as should you.”

“Yes, we should. But afterwards, I would like to have a word with you about what happened, because that was one of the most bizarre and strangest things I’ve ever seen, and I would like to personally check and make sure that you are fine and not injured after what happened, as well as determine whether or not a phenomena like this was merely a fluke or if something induced it, or perhaps some other potential outcome, and not to mention try to figure out a way to send a request to fix the scratches and scrapes in the walls without rousing suspicion, are we clear?”

Longarm just continued to smile warmly as he began to rise. “But of course, my dear.”

-

There’s been a burning need for answers in Longarm’s spark ever since he left that room. He’s been working desperately to get his mind off it, he finished talking to Sentinel Prime, he finished writing up uncountable amounts of reports, he contacted intel to see what they had to say, and yet, he couldn’t forget. Whenever he let his thoughts wander away from work, he always found himself thinking about what happened back there and why he didn’t know he could do that. Had he ever done it before? Was this some sort of newfound power? No, he felt like he’d done it before, an overwhelming feeling of familiarity was in that moment, though he’d never done it before.

At least, not anytime he could remember.

He recalled a particular conversation he had while doing a brief check up on Alpha Trion, where the two fell silent for a few kliks and Longarm couldn’t help but ask, “... Triple changers aren’t natural, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Could a triple changer be unaware that they are a triple changer?”

“I suppose, why is that?”

“... Curiosity, mostly. Now, back to what we were discussing…”

He had no answers. In between his work and his wandering thoughts, he tried to look up things that could’ve been what happened to him, but to no avail. There was no rational reason as to why this happened to him as far as he could tell, and he resented every single moment of it. It hurt his processors beyond belief trying to strain and reach and hope that he’d remember some small detail that could explain what was going on, but there never was an answer. There never was a single thing he could remember that could give some sort of explanation.

Then his mind wandered to what he thought earlier. Could… Could this be explained with some sort of past he wasn’t aware of? Maybe the answer lied in some distant memory he could no longer recall.

But that was speculation. There was no proof, nor evidence to elaborate or explain. Chances are, not many people would know very much about his past, and he was not about to risk his position for that mishap.

And, if anyone did know, then why didn't he know by now? Someone would ought to tell him about his power, should they have known...

Longarm vented loudly and stopped his wild, speculative thoughts that ran amok. He took a few kliks to collect himself, and continued to work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD, this took longer than usual because I kept drawing blanks at some spots and I'm currently in Mexico visiting my family.
> 
> Hope y'all like it anyways :>

Blurr hated the whole ordeal as much as Longarm did, if not more.

He spent most of his free time pacing and moving, trying to ignore his anxiety that was ever so slowly welling up in him as time went on. He couldn't stay still for very long without starting to twitch, his anxious thoughts combined with his restless nature making him far too active both mentally and physically.

He couldn't focus even if he wanted to. His processors kept him focused on the incident, running over the possibilities that could've led up to it. Longarm was framed. He was being slandered. An accident. Some unholy medical procedure took place. Divine intervention, even.

Longarm was a Decepticon.

That was the one he kept going back to, and that was the one that made his tank lurch and made him want to purge. It wasn't possible, Longarm loved him truly and dearly, and he couldn't have been lying to him this whole time.

… Could he?

The thought of him being a Decepticon felt impossible on all levels, but, oddly enough, gave him the eerie feeling of déjà vu. And he resented the feeling with everything he had.

He can't focus. He wanted to focus but he couldn't, not with the looming memory of what happened to the him.

But if Longarm was a Decepticon, if Blurr stumbled upon his true form in his room, he wouldn't have made it out of there alive. Longarm trusted him well enough to help him, and he didn't know how to feel. Part of him wanted to feel happy that Longarm really trusted him, and the other part felt terrified and wondered if he was going to be killed by him if he ever let his guard down again.

“Are you alright?”

The sound of another voice made him yelp. Oh right. Cliffjumper. Blurr was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he'd forgotten entirely about the reason why he was even in a conference room.

“Yes, of course, I apologize, I was thinking and it was troubling me though it is nothing of your concern, it is simply personal matters and nothing more, we should really start with that meeting you were discussing, yes?”

“... Right. Yeah, okay.”

-

Longarm immediately wanted to go into recharge as soon as he walked into his quarters. He was exhausted from the strain on his processors throughout the day, he didn't want to be awake at the moment, and had quite an earful from Sentinel _just_ as his shift was ending. The other Prime kept pestering and demanding him to send an undercover intelligence agent to help with the situation on that alien planet. Earth, it was called, right? Sentinel didn't even really need an intelligence agent, besides, there were very few to offer to him with the Decepticons uprising again. Ultra Magnus would understand, but Longarm was _not_ really feeling up to contacting him today.

He vented loudly, a slight growl following it as he fell back on his berth again, facing the ceiling and finding his thoughts wandering back to the morning’s incident.

As if he wasn't already exhausted from thinking about it almost all day today. He sighed and reached over to the wall, tracing the scratches. His processors drew into a blank, just kind of laying there thinking about nothing.

Well, this was a very eventful solar cycle.

He jumped a bit as he was brought back to reality by his comm links coming online. _“Longarm? It's me, I'm almost at your place if you're not there I'll be inside there waiting for you.”_

Oh right. He'd nearly forgotten about Blurr expressing that he wanted to talk about this situation later on. Longarm vented once more and commed Blurr, _“I'm here. Very tired, but here.”_

Why did Blurr have to get dragged into this mess, anyways? If anything, this should've been something that only Longarm had to deal with. It couldn't have been a coincidence, right?

And, if being able to change his entire shape was a thing he'd had before his accident, why now? Wouldn't he have known by now? And wouldn't he have been told he could do this? Even more hypotheticals burned in him, the ‘what if’s and ‘why’s making his processors ache again. 

Thank goodness that Blurr entered when he did. Longarm vented, sitting upright and mumbling, “Hello.” He began to get off his berth, but Blurr immediately shook his head, moving over to stop him. “No, no, you're most certainly tired after everything that happened today, especially after the strain of work and things of the like, you shouldn't strain yourself, besides, I only want to talk and you can recharge afterwards.”

Longarm paused before slowly moving back, sitting up and moving so his back leaned against the wall. Blurr hopped up on the berth, sitting on it's side and letting his legs dangle over the edge. It was intended for a much much bigger than himself, so much so that his pedes could barely touch the ground if Blurr stretched just enough.

Longarm took a few moments to admire him before speaking, “So… What did you want to talk about specifically?”

Blurr looked over. “How you are doing, if you're in pain, what you think happened, things like that I think, though I've come to a conclusion that, most likely, you're about as confused with what happened as I did, but in the end I just want to know if you're okay.”

Longarm looked away. “I… I'm not in pain, but I'm very exhausted. I'm probably going to refuel and then immediately recharge, today's been very… Interesting. I've had my fair share of wondering what happened, and I think the most likely reason is that whatever happened was something that was connected to my past, before… You know.” He returned his gaze back to Blurr, smiling softly and continuing, “I'm fine, for the most part. I just need to rest.”

Blurr nodded, hopping off the berth and moving over to get some energon as Longarm had mentioned. “Yes, I think that sounds very understandable,” he stated flatly.

Longarm tilted his head. “Is something wrong? I know you're anxious about this all, but… How do you feel? Be honest with me, I know you've been thinking about this.”

Blurr paused for a brief moment before continuing. “I have been thinking a lot about this I will admit to the point where it becomes severely distracting and troublesome but if you are okay then I am okay.” It wasn't a whole truth, but it wasn't a lie.

Longarm opened his intake to speak, but closed it, deciding against pushing for information. “I... See.” Blurr returned, offering Longarm a cube of energon, which he accepted.

“I hope you're not too worried about this… Shouldn't you get some energon for yourself?” Longarm questioned.

“I already refuelled, there isn't a need for me to have more energon.”

“You're lying, my dear. I know you're anxious, but _please_ drink something. You shouldn't sacrifice your health over worrying.” Longarm already figured that Blurr would've pulled that card, he'd seen him do it so many times already.

Blurr seemed a little bit surprised, but didn't bother to argue, turning to get energon for himself too. Longarm smiled softly and patiently waited for Blurr to return, watching him hop back onto the edge of the berth. “I just want to see you well, my dear. Please don't worry so much over this, alright? Try to pretend this never happened.”

Blurr obviously was highly uncomfortable with the very thought of not knowing what had happened. He immediately shot a rather upset look at Longarm. “But I can't help it! We've been together for a long time and I can't help but worry about you regardless of whether or not you want me to, this isn't something you can just pass off as no big deal, Longarm!”

“Something happened and it is either something you're not aware of or something you're hiding. A Decepticon badge on YOU? There is something severely wrong, and I trust you - and _know_ you - well enough to believe that you aren't hiding something from me, so this either has to do with something you used to be or something that happened that you're not aware of, and evidence points to the former, okay, and THAT'S what I've been thinking about this entire time while worrying about you, and then you tell me to pretend that none of this happened.”

“Longarm, I love you, I REALLY do! You're a good mech with a kind spark, and I _can't help_ but worry about you, I just do! I can't combat it, it just happens and I worry and I..!” Blurr stopped himself, finding himself at a loss of words. He was trembling a bit, gripping tightly onto the cube of energon he had. He vented and looked up to Longarm, so seemed a little bit taken aback and a little bit sad. “I love you. I'm… Sorry about that. I'll just finish this drink and go-”

“No. No, no, it's… Fine. I was stupid to have said that… I would prefer you don't go, quite honestly.” Longarm forced a weak smile as he continued, “And I love you too, my dear. Please don't go tonight.”

Blurr stared quietly, considering his options, before nodding. “I.. Okay. I'll stay. Just let me finish... And you should finish your drink too.”

The two fell under a spell of silence for some time. It was a little bit awkward, but eventually, Blurr piped up, “Are you going to keep trying to figure out what happened?”

Longarm nodded. “I feel like I have to.”

Blurr fell silent for a little bit again, but turned to Longarm with a determined look. “I want to do everything I can to help.”

At that, Longarm smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

It's been two solar cycles.

Two long, hard cycles of questioning and wondering, and, worst of all, two long hard cycles of no answers and silence.

Longarm tried to continue his job as if nothing happened, researching on the side and finding nothing that would match what he experienced. Blurr fidgeted and worried aimlessly, in a constant and looping cycle of fear, anxiety, and wondering.

Needless to say, this hole was just digging itself deeper, with neither party managing to scrounge any answers. If anything, they were only earning themselves more unsolvable questions that started to make their heads hurt.

For Longarm, this was in a literal sense. He had a rather difficult time focusing with a processor ache that bordered on an actual migraine, and it was only proving to be more frustrating and adding on to the gigantic amount of stress he's had in the first place. He hated every single second of it.

No answers. Nothing, not one thing in the _history_ of Cybertron was a sudden explanation like this recorded, if even possible.

When he was alone, once, Longarm tried to see if he could go back to that strange form. And he was able to, with relative ease the metal shifted in a familiar yet alien motion, melding and warping itself to change in an unnatural manner back into the tall, horned figure. Thankfully, his office was tall enough to accommodate the full height of his form, and his antlers didn't clang onto the ceiling. He was free to stretch and move, uninhibited by his size and height.

He slowly moved, taking a few steps, trying to find his proper balance after the shift in size. He tested his claws, finding them a bit cumbersome, but just about as functional as his servos usually were. He seemed to look over himself again, inspecting everything about this altered body.

And then the sheer _familiarity_ of this hit him. 

The uncanny déjà vu that settled in his spark and processors felt uncomfortable and highly disturbing - the thought of this alien form, which once carried a Decepticon badge and was something completely new to him, being familiar was revolting. _And he hated it._

He quickly shifted back to his original form, disturbed by the awful feeling, and trying to desperately get back to work to forget it.

Blurr, meanwhile, suffered from anxiety that ebbed and flowed as it pleased, often suddenly spiking in intensity and sometimes threatening to turn into a full blown panic attack at times. He wasn't handling the situation well at all - not like Longarm was handling it much better, though. He just worried and worried, overthinking things at times.

And, other times, being steadfast in an answer.

_Longarm was a Decepticon._

He didn't want to believe it at first, but as the days went by, more and more evidence (albeit very faulty, as they were almost always speculation) began to support this wild theory he had. But, at the same time, he knew that Longarm couldn't do something like that. Not the Longarm he knew - never in his life would he do something like that. But there were explanations, if he really squinted hard enough.

He was kind of secretive. He didn't like to talk about what was going on. He was hesitant at times…

But it was all speculation blown up by sheer desperation for some sort of answer, and he knew it. It was highly faulty, it jumped to conclusions on everything and had absolutely no real, solid evidence as proof that this was real. This was all just something that he was thinking about and wondering if it was true - but Primus, he couldn't get the image of when he first saw Longarm in that awful scene out of his mind. The tall, gangly figure that stumbled over himself, with antlers and cruel claws that looked incredibly sharp and with that wretched badge on his chest. That single, piercing eye that gazed silently, red and glaring, almost unfeeling in it's cruel gaze.

But… This same, monstrous bot had that scared expression, antlers pushed backwards in fear and trembling. He was obviously confused and in distress, and begging for Blurr to listen, desperately hoping that he'd understand and believe that he didn't know what was going on, anxiety and terror lining every single word he said.

Blurr wasn't sure, two solar cycles later, if he really believed him.

-

On the third solar cycle after the incident, Longarm _wasn't_ upset.

They didn't need an intel agent on that planet. They were the Elite Guard for crying out loud - but no, Sentinel kept prying for another agent and kept trying to get someone else. To see if there was evidence of some inside spy.

And when Longarm refused, he managed to get Ultra Magnus himself to demand one.

And of course the only available option was Blurr.

Frustration mixed with distaste, irritability, and a processor ache that made every single waking moment agonizing (which he never got checked out, because he knew it was derived from stress) created a molotov cocktail of emotions that was threatening to explode on whoever had the bearings to try to talk to him next. He couldn't even work properly, he just kept his optics shut and had his face in his servos, trying to not lose it here and now.

No, Longarm wasn't upset. Longarm was _absolutely furious._

Of course, the only other person who knew of the incident and the love of his life had to be sent to a distant planet with minimal contact, and not to mention directly after the mess of an awful situation that had taken place. He knew Blurr was worried sick about everything, and Longarm tried to avoid the subject around him to try to ease his anxious mind a bit, and yet he has to be sent on this Primus forsaken mission to a distant sector of the galaxy.

Just great.

The moment he received a ping for a call, he was nearly about to stand up and actually flip his own desk over in sheer anger, but soon realized exactly who was calling.

Blurr.

Longarm decided to wait for the call to automatically drop, venting heavily when it finally did. He intended to pass it off as not being in the room at the time of the call, but then received another call. And another. And after that one passed, he received yet another one, all of them from Blurr.

Damn it.

He wasn't in the mood, and he didn't want to end up yelling at Blurr right now. He was incredibly stressed out by basically everything and anything, maybe after he had some time to call down he could call but Primus, not now.

 _Definitely_ not now.

-

The bot, on the other end of the line, had a different stance on this situation. A significantly more negative one, in fact.

Blurr held a datapad in his servos, detailing the mission as well as information needed (albeit not much was given). He kept glancing over it, then up at the monitor to see if there was a response after each call, then back at the datapad. He kept calling back, but always received nothing, and after trying for about 5 consecutive cycles, he finally decided to stop, finally discouraged.

Primus, he hated when his processors jumped to conclusions.

Why wasn't Longarm answering? His mind went through thousands of reasons why, some just being simple; maybe he was busy, maybe he wasn't in the room. But some turned into rather awful thoughts, bringing more and more welling fear and paranoia into his spark. He didn't want to think of those things.

Longarm _couldn't_ be a Decepticon.

It's outrageous. He's jumping to conclusions with that theory, but it's the only one he could cling on to. It was the only one that could actually make sense of things, even if it's ridiculous. It doesn't make sense. It makes perfect sense. His hands started shaking as he stared blankly at the datapad, no longer reading it at this point, just… Staring.

He just wanted the thoughts to stop, but they always ended up coming, whether he liked it or not.

 _He isn't answering you because he's doing something else. Maybe he's lying. Maybe he is a Decepticon and you're just being naive and forgiving. He is a Decepticon he's sending you to this planet so you're not in the way of him and his plans. He is a Decepticon and he can't talk to you because he's talking to other Decepticons. He’ll offline you when you aren't looking. He doesn't love you. He's using you. He **never** loved you._

Blurr was grateful that he was alone.

He didn't want anyone to see him break down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND NOW WE TRANSFER INTO BLURR HAS A BAD TIME TERRITORY
> 
> I also wanna give a special thanks to my friend Aicity who's been giving her input on my writing and helping proofread it. Sorry this was a bit late again, life stuff happened and in the process I forgot this existed until recently :'D
> 
> And again, sorry if this is short! ;w;
> 
> EDIT: I don't know if I'm going to be picking this up anytime soon, and I doubt I will. I've kinda burnt myself out of this... But maybe some day I'll pick this up. Until then!


End file.
